


Nine Hundred Ninety-Nine Happy Haunts

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [146]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Disney World, Gen, Haunted mansion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:11:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean take a trip to Disney.</p><p>Did you know people are always trying to dump ashes of their dearly departed in the Haunted Mansion? Its a big issue, there's all sorts of procedures in place against it.</p><p>What if someone succeeded?</p><p>Because there may be nine hundred ninety-nine happy haunts, but there's always room for a thousand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine Hundred Ninety-Nine Happy Haunts

**Author's Note:**

> This is another piece from tumblr.
> 
> This is just a fun little thing someone asked me to write when I first got hired at Magic Kingdom. God I love the Haunted Mansion.

“And on your left, we have….the backside of water,” the skipper says dramatically. Sam snorts a little bit, feeling the mist of the spray cut through the sickeningly hot air.

Dean doesn’t laugh, just rolls his eyes. Sam rolls his eyes back.

Some people.

They get off the Jungle Cruise and walk out into Adventureland. Sam likes it here, lively and full of people, every inch dominated by someone or something moving. The sights, the colors, the sounds…

Sam scoffs at magic that, well, isn’t real magic. Based on this, he’s wondering if the Disney Company is keeping some witches on staff.

Good witches, apparently. Like the movies.

Dean likes whipping out one of the fake credit cards and handing it over to vendors for yet another food item. “It’s ice cream that tastes like pineapple,” he says. Sam smiles when he notices a smudge of it smeared partway up Dean’s cheek.

They wonder through Adventureland, hitting the Pirates of the Caribbean ride–which Dean loves the idea of until they get properly inside, and then he mocks the oldest effects–and then wandering into Frontierland.

“Okay, over to Splash Mountain and Big Thunder Mountain, or over to the Haunted Mansion?” Sam asks.

Dean snorts. “Haunted Mansion, we have to see this one,” he says. “Hit the mountains later. Save the best for last.”

So they make their way through the Haunted Mansion line, which is a fun little queue, and Sam gets a kick out of reading the tombstones. Then a scream echoes from behind the closed doors, which really wouldn’t be that unexpected, except even the cast members look more than a little freaked out. Resigned, almost, some of them.

“Think that’s off the script?” Dean asks quietly.

Sam thinks about it. “You know…I read that people try to dump relatives’ ashes here all the time. What if…”

“Someone succeeded?” Dean finishes.

Sam nods. Sam’s read about all the rides, he remembers this one well. “Nine hundred ninety-nine happy haunts,” he says. “But…there’s room for a thousand.”

Dean groans. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“Restaurant right there,” Sam points. “Bet they have salt.”

“We’re supposed to be on _vacation_ ,” Dean grouses, but he follows Sam out of the line.


End file.
